


He Just Showed Me Paradise!

by Leafling



Series: PWP [5]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Betaed, Corporal Punishment, Discipline, Dom/sub Undertones, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-15 15:46:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7228756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leafling/pseuds/Leafling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is kaijusizefeels' fault, just so you know. I wanted to make it longer, but my attention is being divided by school and my obsession with poisoning <b>all</b> the fandoms with my toxic trash. </p><p>Title from Lords of Acid's "Spank my Booty," because LoA reigns supreme over my playlists and who wouldn't be inspired by such poetry as: <i>"I still thank my dad</i><br/>On my bare two knees<br/>I'll crawl daddy,<br/>Come and spank me please!"</p></blockquote>





	He Just Showed Me Paradise!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaijusizefeels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaijusizefeels/gifts).



Illya Kuryakin isn't a man of vice—he doesn't drink or gamble; he doesn't chase after women. The KGB taught him how to master himself, to exercise discipline and self-restraint—however, he is seriously doubting his training now that he has Napoleon stretched across his thighs, stripped completely bare and rendered nearly ( _nearly,_  because Napoleon is still very much a _highly-trained special agent_ ) helpless by the restraints on his wrists. 

This power he holds over Napoleon is heady; the fact that it was _willingly surrendered_ makes it _especially_ so.

At first, the American had pointedly resisted, clenching his jaw and fists and bracing for every strike against his skin. He was treating being spanked like it was some kind of torture technique and that Illya was interrogating him. That was puzzling, to say the least, when Napoleon was the one who _suggested_ they do this in the first place.

After strike number four, Illya paused, smoothing his hands up and down the reddening skin on the swell of Napoleon’s perfect ass before he whispered, "I've got you, Napoleon. You are safe," his reassurance worked like a charm; the American suddenly went limp atop him, almost like he  _needed permission_ to let go.

When Illya resumed in spanking Napoleon, slowly, but surely, the American began to react more and more favorably until he was outright mewling and gasping in ecstasy with every well-placed strike that rocked him over Illya's lap.

His skin flushes deeply, glistening with sweat as he writhes agitatedly. He’s no longer trying to get away; now, he wants everything Illya’s willing to give him. The Russian happily obliges, hitting hard and rhythmic, one cheek and then the other, sometimes both if he angles his palm just right. It doesn’t take long until his palm is stinging and Napoleon’s ass is glowing bright red.

The American still wriggles, still hiccups for **more**. Illya bites back a groan, dropping his sore hand to Napoleon's back and skimming his fingers down the length of Napoleon's spine. His hungry eyes absorb every pull of Napoleon’s trapezius and latissimus dorsi, every flex of his shoulder blades, the tight cord of his splenius capitis—Illya wants Napoleon on his knees so he feel it all under his tongue. Instead, he squeezes Napoleon’s ass and revels in the sound he makes.

“Fuck me,” the American huffs, “please,  _Illya,_ ”

He wants to do just that, how Illya desperately wants to end this little game and fuck Napoleon into the mattress—he doesn’t, however, because he knows that Napoleon wants to really see this through. _Spank him ‘til he can’t sit right for a_ week. That’s what he’d asked for… and that’s what he’s going to get.

Illya cards his fingers through Napoleon’s hair before shoving his face down into the mattress,  _“Quiet,”_  he hisses before raining several hard and sporadic smacks down onto Napoleon’s sensitive flesh, “we haven’t even gotten to **twenty**.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is kaijusizefeels' fault, just so you know. I wanted to make it longer, but my attention is being divided by school and my obsession with poisoning **all** the fandoms with my toxic trash. 
> 
> Title from Lords of Acid's "Spank my Booty," because LoA reigns supreme over my playlists and who wouldn't be inspired by such poetry as: _"I still thank my dad_  
>  On my bare two knees  
> I'll crawl daddy,  
> Come and spank me please!"


End file.
